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It would only make them more intense.
    And then there was this other thing. The strange being that sought communion with him. He’d sensed it back in Mexico. Sensed it at some deep and transcendent level. Back there he thought it held answers, answers to the deepest and greatest questions of his life. Now he wasn’t so sure.
    Perhaps it was a dark force, drawing him in. A spider perched on its web, waiting. Spiderwebs are seductive; he couldn’t pull himself away even if it meant ruin, even if it meant death.
    Some distance away, a helicopter was circling a skyscraper. Its lights flashed as it dipped and turned. A part of Joaquin wished he was inside that helicopter, flying through the Dallas night.
    As he watched the helicopter he noticed something strange. The flashing lights didn’t strobe; they pulsated. And it was a type of pulsation he was familiar with.
    It was Morse code.
    Almost unconsciously he translated the code, thinking it was probably a humorous whim on the part of the pilot. But halfway into his translation, he realized that wasn’t the case.
    He backed away from the window, gooseflesh rising on his arms and legs.
    â€œAre you okay?”
    He spun around, focusing on Alondra.
    â€œThis is going to be intense.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œEverything.”
    Alondra demanded that Joaquin explain. But he couldn’t even formulate a sentence. Other words filled his head, the words from that helicopter’s pulsating light.
    He moved back toward the window, almost tiptoeing. He looked for the helicopter. It wasn’t there. No, wait. There it was. And the light was still pulsating, repeating its ominous message.
    He watched it carefully, making sure it said what he thought and wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He was correct. And it was even more shocking, seeing it a second time.
    â€œJoaquin, we’ll be talking soon.”
    The casual, mundane nature of the message made it especially frightening, like a demon wearing a T-shirt.
    Joaquin stared at the helicopter as the message repeated over and over again. Each time, he shivered.
    Then the light flashed “break,” and Joaquin steeled himself for another shock. But again he was met with banality:
    â€œGood-bye and best wishes.”
    It sent this message only once. Then the light returned to its normal strobe, and the helicopter veered away, disappearing into a cloud.

chapter 12

A DARK HAPPINESS
    It felt Joaquin’s fear. And it liked it. It also liked the new words it was learning: airplane, engine, iPod, helicopter, and Morse code. It liked the taste of these words. They possessed a crisp tang, as did the first moment of communion with Joaquin, which it cherished.
    Although it could not see Joaquin, it felt him. It felt his confusion and his seeking heart. These feelings gave it sustenance and purpose.
    When it knew Joaquin had received its message, these sensations intensified. In its vast somewhere, it reeled and spun with joy. It knew in another time, another place, it had felt this revelry before. It had marveled at accomplishment. It had spun and leaped in another shape, another form. But it pushed away such concepts, and plunged itself into the moment.
    As it felt Joaquin receiving the words again, it drank in his fear; gobbled up every morsel. And once again it whirled and whirled, marveling in its supreme majesty.
    Abruptly, this jubilation stopped.
    Joaquin was gone.
    It was alone. Alone? This too was a new word. But this one tasted sour. After swallowing the word, it felt empty inside.
    Emptiness.
    Another distasteful word. This further emptied it. It became so hollow it couldn’t move, so it drifted down into the dark valleys of its someplace.
    It felt dissipated. It wanted to give up.
    Then a power coiled deep inside sprang open. Filling it with energy.It couldn’t immediately identify this new energy, but it welcomed and embraced it.
    As it careened around its world, it